I'm doing a mighty fine impression of Rudolph with my nose oh so red. I'm temporarily dying from illness. I want to pummel myself into unconsciousness just to have a break from sneezing. If my nose doesn't quit running I'll be tempted to punch it off my face. My head feels light and spinny whilst my limbs feel laden. Everything feels slurred.
At least I have new socks though. Christmas socks even. Ha! Take that oh Bah Humbug Husband o'mine.
Christmas shopping phase two has been completed, granted mainly online. Only two more phases to go, neither of which can start until next month.
The Toddler appears to have graduated from watching himself poo whilst on the loo, gazing between his legs to a rather obscure position of leaning over so far that his head nearly touches his feet, yet still not actually falling off the precarious perch his little cheeks have on his seat.
The was a catastrophic disaster. The Husband decided to use The Witching Hour (the time after tea yet before bath) to run an errand. Upon asking Things One and Two to tidy the front room, The Toddler decided to fix an unbroken window with a toy hammer which in itself was fine, pick your battles and all that jazz however I had to act when he decided to trash the room, whilst his siblings attempted to tidy it.
Having carted him upstairs to run the bath, he commenced operation screamathon which consisted of me sat by the bedroom gate whilst he attempted to destroy it, first with his body, then his mind and finally with his volume levels. Seeing as the gate refused to submit he then decided to destroy me, or my hearing at the very least as he screamed directly into my left ear. It's still hurting several hours later. I remained sat on the floor, calmly reiterating exactly why he wasn't going downstairs whilst he continued to shout...and scream. A lot. Obviously this was the perfect time for Things One and Two to fall out rather tremendously. Give me